Of Roman Past
by Liv of life
Summary: When the Romanov family was executed, two of the children were lost. Surviving the horrific events, Alexei is thrust into a new world in the UK where he is taken in by the Lupins and learns to keep more than just his lycanthropy a secret.


_**Authors Notes:**__ I've always been interested in the story of the Romanov family and the subsequent mysteries surrounding them. Their relationship with Rasputin for their youngest child and heir to the throne, Alexei, always caught my imagination. I've used the basics of the Romanov's story for this one, their names and relationships, their assassination but have displaced them in time to the marauder era and also in place to an extent as they are the royal family of the Wizarding world. _

* * *

He'd hoped in summer Ykaterinburg would be more interesting. It had fallen to 22 below zero during the winter. They had built a snow mountain, which had been fun while it lasted, but after Mama and Papa had stood upon it to salute the soldiers outside they had been made to destroy it. The guards didn't like Papa doing anything. If he rode his bicycle they put sticks through the spokes, if he tried to cut wood they said they needed the saw. Alexei scowled at the guard he could see in the garden below. That one had yelled at Alexei yesterday because he hadn't been able to walk. It wasn't his fault. But then, as Ana reminded him, the guards didn't know that. It was embarrassing that everyone but the family thought he'd done it falling down some stairs. Alexei huffed and stared at the ceiling, fingers tapping the edges of his chair. If possible, it was worse here in the summer. During the winter the weather could be blamed for the misery pervasive throughout the house, during the summer… the light just seemed to make a mockery of their predicament. He glared at the spider up in the corner. Of all the places to choose, it wanted to be here? He huffed again.

"Alex."

"What? Yes? Is something happening?"

"Stop it."

Wrinkling his nose at his older sister, Alexei scowled.

"My leg hurts. I'm bored."

Maria's face softened as she looked up from her cross-stitch to his unhappy face and bandaged leg. With the magic block on the house, her eleven year old brother had to heal the muggle way: with time. While his physiology did increase the speed of his healing, cuts and scratches were a lot simpler than broken bones. She reached across the sofa arm to hold his hand.

"I know. I'm sorry. Papa says we may be moved though."

"England!"

She smiled indulgently.

"Maybe."

Someone rapped on the door downstairs.

"Finally! That's them come to take us to England."

Maria laughed.

"We'll be eating Yorkshire puddings and scones this time tomorrow."

They grinned at one another, temporarily forgetting the tedium of their house arrest.

Voices murmured and then footsteps came up the stairs.

The Tsar poked his head over the bannister.

Alexei waved cheerily.

"Hello Papa! We're discussing Yorkshire pudding."

The Tsar looked at Maria.

"Go get your sisters and mother, we're being taken somewhere new."

Maria stood dropping her cross-stitch.

"What? Where?"

"Just make sure you all change to suitable clothing."

Maria's eyes flashed and she nodded before hurrying from the room.

"Where are we going Papa?"

The Tsar came up the last few steps. His eyes had dark shadows like bruises beneath them and his hair looked thinner than it had been six months ago. He smiled wearily at Alexei.

"Somewhere new."

Alexei stuck his tongue out.

"You said that already Papa."

"Hm. Did I?"

His Papa bent down and retrieved Maria's cross stitch.

"Hold this for your sister. We need to get you downstairs."

Holding the cross-stitch in one hand, Alexei reached up with his other arm to put it around his Papa's neck.

"On three okay?"

Alexei nodded and braced himself for the jolt of sickening pain in his leg.

"One. Two. Three."

He sobbed briefly before biting it back and trying to hold as much of his weight as possible.

"Good boy. Brave man."

Alexei closed his eyes and tried to distract himself by remembering the words to Pushkin's 'The Prophet' as they slowly made their way down the stairs, each step sending pain from his leg into the back of his throat.

"Where are your wife and daughters?"

"They're coming."

Alexei opened his eyes. Yurovsky, the commander of the house and head of the guard, sniffed and wiped his nose, gun in hand and stared blankly at the two royals. He shifted his feet minutely. The front door was open and Alexei could see more guards standing outside with their guns ready. Muggle weapons were quite threatening looking.

The three house servants, including the family doctor stood waiting anxiously. Alexei smiled at the physician Dr. Botkin. He liked Dr. Botkin, he hadn't told Mama or Papa but when they were alone he was allowed to call him Eugene. Eugene smiled back at him.

"Are you coming with us Dr. Botkin?"

"No talking." Yurovsky snapped.

The Tsar's hold on his son tightened momentarily and Alexei bit his lip glancing apologetically at Eugene. Eugene winked at him though and the cook quirked a half smile at him which made him feel a little better.

Steps clattered overhead.

Yurovsky called up the stairs.

"Quickly please."

The reassuring sound of his Mama's step on the stairs filled the entryway. The guards outside all seemed to move closer to the door as the rest of the family came downstairs. One of the other guards came in and muttered in Yurovsky's ear. He nodded. There was an air of excitement in Alexei's sisters. They'd been here so long and the lingering promise of a possible move in location had been occupying their thoughts over the last month.

"It is not safe for us to stay in the house but there is an insurrection in the town. We will go down to the cellar room and make our way from here when it has ended."

Alexei stiffened and looked at his Papa for reassurance. He hated the cellar… it was the home of his nightmares. Papa smiled sadly at him and shook his head. There was no avoiding it.

Yurovsky gestured for the family to go through to the cellar door at the end of the hall. The Empress raised her eyebrows at the guards piling toward the door now.

"Are they to join us?"

"It is not safe for anyone out there right now."

Tatiana laughed brightly.

"It will be a tight fit down there!"

"Tati. Sh." Alexei watched as his Mama ushered Tatiana towards the cellar after his other three sisters. Olga wiggled her fingers at him and he smiled nervously back at her.

His father shifted Alexei slightly in his arms and he did his best not to make any noise but a small whine escaped as his leg moved.

"Can we bring chairs for my son and wife please?

Yurovsky nodded and gestured to one of the soldiers to bring the bench in the hall. He nodded at the Tsar. "Go on now."

"You alright Alex?"

He nodded tightly and tried to take more of his weight again for his Papa.

"Brave boy."

The walk downstairs was as painful as the previous flight and Pushkin's powers of distraction were running thin. He concentrated on the mythology he'd been reading instead and tried to remember as many Roman characters as possible. Venus, Jupiter, Apollo… Alexei frowned, was Apollo Greek? The smell of the basement filled his nose. It stank of blood and urine and bleach. Alexei hated it down here. Romulus, Remus, Mars.

"It smells down here."

Maria gently cuffed Ana. "Sh. We won't be down here long."

Alexei remembered the cross-stitch clutched in his hand and looked over to Maria. She was standing with her back to the brick wall, a bag in one hand and one of his outdoor coats in the other. He ignored the gouges in the brickwork behind her and waved the cross-stitch in his hand. She crinkled her eyes at him in thanks.

The bench the guard had brought in scraped on the floor as it was set down.

"Let's sit you down. You're getting heavy young man."

Alexei winced as his Papa set him on the bench; his Mama sat by his side and supported him as he shifted.

Ana was right. The guards filling into the room did make it a tight fit. It was comforting in a small way, because it was so different to how it was when he was down there on his own. The guns were unnerving though. All of his family was on one side of the room and the guards stood on the other. There must have been a dozen of them. The final guard shut the door behind him and the cellar became a vacuum for sound.

The Tsar helped his wife settle Alexei more comfortably and spoke over his shoulder to Yurovsky who had stepped back to join the other guards.  
"How long-"

"Nikolai Alexandrovich, in view of the fact that your bloodline is causing continuing unrest in the Wizarding world, the Magic Purity Committee has decided to execute you."

Alexei felt his mother convulse next to him, his mind stopped and his hand clenched around his sister's cross-stitch.

Papa whirled to face the guard "What? What?"

Yurovksy raised his hand to his men and they lifted and pointed their guns. Yurovsky pointed his own at Papa. "You are to be executed."

His Papa flew backwards into Alexei, knocking him from the bench and they slammed onto the floor.

Alexei cried out in pain as his Papa's body fell on his broken leg. He couldn't see, people were screaming and he tried to wipe the blood from his eyes. There was so much noise. Yurovsky stood over him and fired his gun again. Pain slammed into his chest, overwhelming everything. Blazing sounds and light filled the basement and the screaming was choking, terrified and horrific. Strange smells assaulted his nose and shattered pieces of sparkling stones exploded over him as his Mama stumbled off the bench, her hands flailing, and blood blossoming over her chest. He gasped.

The maid was screaming and a guard walked over to his mother. Black boots stepped over his father, in front of Alexei's face. The guard bent over and he stabbed her, over and over. He stabbed her so fast- he wouldn't stop. His Mama spluttered blood and her terrified eyes met his before looking beyond him. Alexei painfully turned his head.

Maria and Olga. Tatiana. Ana. There was blood everywhere. The maid was clutching a pillow as a guard held her by the throat and stabbed her in the stomach. Dr. Botkin. The cook. He gasped again.

"He's still alive."

The guard with the knife stood over him and looked down. The knife came down again and again. He tried to stop it but his arms wouldn't work properly.

"Papa! Papa!"

The boot slammed into his head. It was like waking up from a full moon, nothing made sense. A huge man filled his vision and the tip of the gun on his forehead was hot.


End file.
